


joshler song prompts:the neighbourhood

by americananirvana



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Tysh, josh dun - Freeform, josh dun x tyler joseph, joshler - Freeform, prompts, the neighbourhood - Freeform, twenty one pilots - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americananirvana/pseuds/americananirvana
Summary: a collection of joshler oneshots based on songs by the neighbourhood.you don't have to be a fan of the neighbourhood to read these, they will be loosely based on the songs chosen.





	1. greetings from califournia

**Author's Note:**

> the songs being used are:  
> greetings from califournia  
> ferrari  
> afraid  
> daddy issues  
> honest  
> the beach  
> west coast  
> w.d.y.w.f.m?  
> sweater weather  
> let it go  
> prey  
> float  
> baby came home 2 / valentines  
> wires  
> a little death  
> wiped out !  
> everybody's watching me  
> how  
> female robbery  
> staying up

_**summary for this chapter: tyler frequents the streets of san francisco. josh lives in an apartment with a window facing the street.** _

 

the taste of smoke and dust had become a drug to tyler.

that particular combination permeated the streets of san francisco, and so that is where he walked.

its a rather strangely cold day, and the cold air stings tyler's cheeks and his fingertips tingle. the sky is grey and overcast, but the faint glow of lights from the windows above can be seen. sometimes tyler will sit on a bench across the street and watch the windows of a blue painted apartment building. sometimes, a man will lean out; he'll pull a cigarette out and pull it to his lips. the smoke that drifts from his window is invisible against the usually grey sky.

tyler takes a seat in his usual place; the bench is painted a peeling red in an effort to make it pop. he sits and he watches, and the first indications of rain begin to creep in as clouds roll and the atmosphere becomes imperceptibly more melancholy. the window slides open, and the boy is there.

his hair is different, tyler notices. it's red now.

it begins to drizzle.

the sidewalk, which used to be full of bustling middle aged men and women and families of excited tourists and art enthusiasts holding starbucks cups, is quickly emptying.

tyler doesn't move.

the man is propping his elbows onto the windowsill, occasionally lifting a hand to lift the cigarette to his lips or to flick the ash onto the floor far below. his head turns at he gazes up and down the sidewalk, and puts a hand out to test the rain. tyler and a few others are the only that remain outside. suddenly, the window is closed, and the cigarette is discarded, thrown out the window in an act of carelessness. tyler frowns at the sudden disappearance.

tyler looks at the sky, and drops of rain roll down the back of his neck. tyler knows his hair is already wet, and his thin adidas jacket is already soaked through. he can't help but shiver slightly. but tyler doesn't make any move to go inside. the flavor of san francisco is still there, but now there is a satisfying edge to it. he can't feel his fingertips anymore.

suddenly, there is a presence next to him, and he turns his head to the left.

he's there.

his bright red hair puts the bench's color to shame. he smirks a little, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped black skinny jeans.

"wanna get out of the rain?"

his voice is husky, and it sounds so blue-grey-burgundy that he can't help agreeing.

he smiles again, and a silver ring glints in his nose as he tilts his head from the other side.

"don't worry, there's a great view from my window."

his name is josh, and he tastes like san francisco.


	2. ferrari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> josh is the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in brooklyn. tyler is the pretty brunette that lives unfortunately close to the places josh frequents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the neighbourhood okay shhh

josh absolutely adores leather.

the smell, the feel, it's something he loves.

the seats in his yellow ferrari are leather, and his jackets are usually custom made.

and during particularly rough jobs, he wears leather gloves too.

and so, josh dun, clad in black jeans, combat boots, leather jackets, bright dyed hair and sunglasses has become part of the scenery to tyler.

tyler lives in a high rise apartment building; every morning, he makes his way down 7 flights of stairs to get a cup of tea (earl grey tea to be specific) from the little cafe in the plaza next door. he is used to seeing a brandless black car pull smoothly into a parallel parking space and for a man dressed in all black to emerge, his steel tipped combat boots clicking as he walks, unnoticed into the shop and always comes out holding a large black coffee. he blends in, most others mark him off as just another punk on the streets, but tyler knows that the drinks from that cafe are served extremely hot, but the man sips it like it is lukewarm.

sometimes, he notices, that he arrives in a yellow ferrari instead, and sometimes there are scratch marks on his neck, bruises on his arms and cuts on his face.

he never takes his sunglasses off.

 

11:49 pm.

it is unusually late for tyler to be out and about, and the sky is completely dark. only a few pedestrians remain on the street, laughing and yelling.

tyler shivers and pulls his jacket closer around him. he speeds up his walking, his converse near silent on the dirty sidewalk.

he swears he could've seen a head of bright hair cross the street, but when he looks back, there's no one there.

tyler finally reaches his apartment building, and stumbles into the warm lobby. he hears a loud strum of guitar as he gets in the elevator, drawing his mind idly to the thoughts of music. tyler plays 3 instruments, so he paid to get his apartment specially sound proofed so he wouldn't bother any of his neighbors.

finally, the elevator creaks and grinds to a stop at the seventh floor and tyler steps out, pulling his keys from his back pocket. the keychains jingle as he turns it in his door. he's cold and tired and he just wants to collapse and fall asleep.

he drops his keys onto the kitchen table, pulls his converse off and sets them down next to a pair of black combat boots.

he trudges towards his bedroom and frowns. he swears that when he left this morning, the door was open.

when he opens the door, he can't stop a choked gasp from escaping his lips. there's a man sitting on his bed.

he tilts his head a bit sardonically, and his lips pull up on one side just a bit.

"well, tyler, you should probably get a new lock for your door."

his voice is velvety purple, tyler notices.

he thought it would've sounded like leather.

a black jacket is hanging from the back of his desk chair, and the man is wearing a bright red flannel instead of his usual black.

"what-what're you doing in my house?" he chokes out, and he hates the way it shakes as it comes out.

his laugh is bright red.

"i've always been teased for having a thing for pretty brunettes."

suddenly he's standing and stalking towards him, and tyler doesn't realize he's backing up until his back hits the wall.

he pulls off his sunglasses and tosses them onto tyler's desk with unerring accuracy, and for the first time, tyler sees pretty mocha eyes that glint green blue as the light passes over them.

his hand is on tyler's chin, and it's smooth.

"you can call me josh, sweetheart."

his voice turned deep dark blue.

josh's hand moves to stroke across his cheekbone, and he smiles, softer than anything tyler has seen so far.

"you really are quite pretty. it should be a sin."

josh's mouth on his neck is the last thing that he remembers from that night.

when he wakes up, there's a cup of steaming tea on his kitchen counter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im firmly convinced that josh is a top ok ay


	3. afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's 12 am and josh is having a panic attack in an abandoned park.  
> tyler is his biggest fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone didn't know, i wrote a story separate of this collection called sell your soul, not your whole self. it's a two chapter story that's also based around the song afraid so if you're looking for something a little longer you can find it on my profile :^)

josh hates people.

and he should've known better than to be an artist, because now there are people that hate him and words are so vicious, they always hit just too close to home.

_you aren't original, i've seen this before._

_this is terrible, why are you famous?_

_you're wasted talent._

and he _should've known,_ because he knows himself and he knows what he needs and here he sits, in an empty park at 12 am, lacking a jacket with his hands turning blue. he hurts. because he could be better, he should've been better, why wasn't he better he was useless.

 

three things about tyler joseph:

tyler is a late night walker.

tyler loves art.

tyler is obsessed with josh dun.

every piece he makes screams to him, and it yells and it pulls and hits you until you ache, but it's a good ache so you stretch it until it's gone.

tyler was never the happiest of people.

sometimes tyler wishes he wasn't tyler, because sometimes he likes to go on the roof of his apartment building and on the building next to him, there's a silhouette of somebody else that is worrying.

sometimes that silhouette has a black marker or a can of spray paint, and tyler likes to sit and watch in quiet melancholy.

sometimes the silhouette just sits on the edge.

sometimes the silhouette cries.

today isn't a roof day. it's too high and it will steal tyler's sanity away until he has nothing left but stolen time.

so tyler gets his feet on the ground and he walks, and he walks. the park is quiet and people rush by in cars and trivial thoughts leave a soft blue tone in the air. the green is soft and rustling, and the sky is vast and overwhelming, reaching down with dark blue and sharp gold. tyler is a violent red, angry but grounding and brutally well.

there's a silhouette of a curled up body and a bench and something unnatural and melancholy about him.

the silhouette lacks breathing, and the absence colors the air dusty grey.

the figure is a masterpiece, so tyler approaches him.

josh's eyes are glassy bottle green and his mouth is open, speaking tones of silence.

so tyler speaks to him with a voice of soft pink orange, and tells him to listen.

he holds josh's hand.

josh is a work of art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i had so much trouble writing this yikes


	4. daddy issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler is a runaway street musician. josh is an artist with a taste for music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated!! break just ended for me and i haven't had much time. it'll probably take longer to update now, but i'll try to make the chapters longer :^))

tyler's ukulele is out of tune.

he frowns at it; he doesn't have his tuner with him and there's no way he can play with it so out.

he doesn't have his phone with him either.

tyler is standing in the middle of a subway with empty pockets and an discordant ukulele.

it's cold.

he shivers in his threadbare black sweater and he ponders, because he can't do anything but he can't go back, he doesn't have enough money for the trip.

he's stranded.

at least it's better off than where he was.

screaming. yelling.

disregard, anger, careless insults and commands thrown sideways with an burning gaze and a flick of ash.

tyler, clean the fucking floor.

goddamnit tyler, what did you do this time?

go to your room, you piece of shit.

you fucking leech.

suddenly, the air seems 10 degrees lower.

there's a gentle tap on his shoulder, and a black haired man grasping a guitar holds out a phone to him.

"name's brendon. looked like you were in a bit of a dilemma."

tyler flushes slightly and mutters a thank you as brendon moves a few feet and begins to strum the guitar, humming quietly.

tyler winces as the pegs of his ukulele creak as he turns them up.

at last, he hands the phone back.

brendon gives him a gentle smile, running long fingers through his hair.

"i perform here on tuesdays in the morning. you could come by next week."

tyler just nods and thanks him again, and brendon gets on the train, still strumming and raising a hand in farewell as the doors breeze closer.

tyler allows himself a smile.

he holds the ukulele to his body tightly, and edges the small box in front of him a little further out.

he strums softly and breathes, breathes the smoky air and wet cement.

he lets his words drift; they float softly into the crowd and press against the overhang above, turning minds to lavender and soft yellow.

people are walking now, clicks and clacks interrupting tyler's serenade.

he sings a little louder. 

the words are wind, pushing and weaving and making their ways into consiousness and subconciousness.

 a few coins clatter into tyler's box. a short boy with blond hair drops a twenty into the box.

he stands for a bit, recording, then leaves.

the next group of passengers arrive. 

a man is walking towards him, his hair soft pink and his clothes are navy blues and soft cream.

there is paint on his hands and his ripped jeans, and his lips are chewed raw.

he stops, watches tyler with awed fascination, hands fidgeting with something as he stands to the side, listening.

he drops 30 dollars and favors tyler with a bright smile and crinkled eyes.

when tyler is there the next day, so is the bright haired man.

he stands a little closer this time and waits for him to finish.

he asks tyler, fidgeting with his long sleeved sweater,

"would it be okay if i painted you?"

his voice shakes a little.

tyler nods, cheeks flushing in embarassment.

his name is josh.

josh sits on a nearby bench.

he moves a few times, frowning slightly.

he sketches. 

the sun sets quickly, and tyler is finishing the last song of today.

when he looks up, josh is gone.

 

josh is sitting crosslegged on a bench when tyler gets there, brighteyed and new splatters of paint on his hands.

he jumps and nearly runs towards tyler, presenting him with a large canvas.

it is filled with pastel purples and reds, and gold makes the painting shimmer. there is dark blue depth in tyler he didn't know he had.

he hugs josh, and josh hugs him back.

a few days later,

the blond haired man comes back, but with a friend.

they want to sign tyler to their label.

when tyler's first ep comes out, the cover is touched with soft purples and yellows.

there are paint smears on tyler's skin too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes sorry i didn't have much inspiration for this


	5. honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler is an endlessly deep inmate.  
> josh is the mysterious guard with the laugh that gives tyler chills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i struggled really hard w this one im so sorry its so short i promise the next one will better also theres gonna be a new work after i finish this series so :^)

tyler's mind is a cloud.

it is endless like a void, but it is more foggy than he cares to think about.

the concrete floor of his cell is cold, but it feels good under his skin.

his tattoos; they itch. they remind him of a time where he was free to enjoy the languid warmth of the sun on his skin.

it is a secret he is no longer privy to.

he hates his cell. it is his prison, physically and mentally in every term of the word.

someone bangs loudly on the bars of his cell. it reverberates shrilly through the air.

"lunch time."

a new voice says.

tyler's head jolts up.

a different figure stands at the front of his cell, his shadow casting across the little room.

his hair is a shock of yellow,

tyler barely remembers that color.

the man smirks a little, and his laugh is harsh and cold but it sends chills down tyler's back.

"take a picture, it'll last longer."

 

tyler's lunch is tasteless.

he pokes at it idly with a plastic fork. it squeaks as he drags it over the tray.

heavy footsteps approach him.

"now now, sweetheart. what's gotcha down?"

he shivers.

this time his laugh is a little softer, but just as icy cold.

"nothing." he responds harshly. it doesn't affect the guard at all, who merely smiles.

"that fork is screaming otherwise."

he sits down at the table next to him, resting his head on his chin with a blinding smile.

"so, what did a pretty face like you do to end up in a place like this?"

tyler's voice is flat and emotionless.

"several accounts of first degree murder and arson, as well as breaking and entering."

to his credit, josh doesn't even flinch.

"that's all?" with another little smirk, he murmurs, low and smooth,

"and i would've thought those cute little brown eyes of yours would've gotten you out of here in no time."

the sound of his combat boots clicking on the floor as he walks away haunts tyler for the rest of the day.

 

tyler finds out that his name is josh.

some of the inmates speak of him with an undernote of fondness. josh likes to bring the good inmates new books and pencils and paper.

others speak of him with fear.

they talk about his laugh that freezes hearts and the eyes that burn thoughts.

tyler doesn't speak of him at all.

one day, josh tosses something on his cot, through the bars of the cell while his cellmate is out showering. he stands outside the cell with legs crossed and an infuriating smirk that tyler has become accustomed to.

he moves to pick it up.

it's an mp3 player.

when tyler looks up to question josh, he's already gone.

 

the next time he sees josh, he's being held up by the throat at the hands of his cellmate.

josh's bright hair is thrown back, and tyler thinks that each second he lacks oxygen, the color fades a little more.

his sight fills with red as suddenly there are million voices in his head that are screaming, and when he tackles his cellmate and rips at him with his nails, he turns red too.

 

the last time he sees josh is when he's being led away to his death sentence.

his footstops are loud behind him, and he spins him around with a force.

he kisses him, with the force of a dying hurricane as it destroys everything around it.

josh's hair reminds him of sunshine.

sunshine he'll never see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok honestly tho im really excited for the work im writing in the background so if anyone wants to hear about it hmu lmao


	6. the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler is a lifeguard.  
> josh isn't happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM GOING TO A TØP CONCERT I CANT BELIEVE IT I C ANT

the first time tyler meets josh, they're six feet under water and josh's eyes are glassy, and his yellow hair floats hypnotically around his face.

tyler should really be focused on saving his life, but he can't help thinking that he's  _beautiful._

it was a softer day. the sun was slow in making its descent down the sky, and the wind wrapped around him instead of biting through him. the beach was suprisingly empty, with a middle aged couple leaving tyler's line of sight and a few teenagers sleeping far from the water.

there's a little outcrop of rock a little further down the beach. underneath it is a water filled cove, teeming with smaller fish in hiding and predators seeking.

when tyler isn't on duty, sometimes he likes to sit at the top and watch the waters down below. it makes him nervous when he sees people up there; when they jump into the water, he's never quite sure whether they'll come back up or not.

there's a figure sitting off the edge. tyler can make out what seems to be a tattoo sleeve and dyed yellow hair that reminds him of his childhood cereal boxes.

the man sits there, seemingly contemplating the water beneath him. he stands up almost hesistantly. he turns his back to the edge, but makes no move walk away.

tyler frowns.

then, with arms outstretched, he falls with the grace of a bird diving through the air, but he, unlike the bird, has no wings.

tyler holds his breath batedly and waits for that shock of yellow hair to appear above the surface.

26 seconds. 

he counts 26 seconds before his heart speeds up with intensity he wouldn't normally credit himself with and he sprints down the stairs of the tower and runs, his feet digging into the sand and the smell of the ocean permeating his mind.

the water isn't warm.

the man is facing upwards, and tyler catches his breath because he is more beautiful than anything else he's ever seen. 

when tyler gathers josh into his arms and begins to seek the moving surface far above, he notices a line of black text cutting into the pale skin of his prominent collarbones.

i am not fireproof, it says.

tyler doesn't have time to wonder about it.

he swims with the desperation of prey and with the purpose of predator.

he's aching as he drags the other man onto the beach, who's still breathing. his pulse is there.

suddenly, he sits bolt upright with a racking cough, and spits out a mouthful of water, and suddenly, he begins to sob.

they shake his body and twists his face, and he buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his chest and cries with more emotion than tyler's probably ever felt. 

he just pulls his hands away from his face and covers them in his own, stroking his thumbs across the pink red knuckles.

his eyes are shut tight and the skin around it is pink and red, and he looks so absolutely wrecked that tyler can't help but tear up a little.

his voice is scratchy with saltwater as he mutters repeatedly,

"im sorry. im sorry. im sorry. im sorry. im sorry."

tyler grasps his face in between his hands.

"you aren't fireproof. you aren't burning me."

he wraps his arms around him with a shaky sigh and buries his face into tyler's shoulder.

tyler mumbles,

"what's your name?"

"josh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does anyone still read this??  
> tumblr: washedouteyes


	7. west coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler's a serial killer. josh is suicidal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late update sorry kids

  
josh watches the news with eager aggression.

stations across the country buzz with the same news and the same clips and photos and the same tones that express ungenuine emotion to the victims. stations across the country are buzzing with the news of a serial killer.  
  
he moves quickly, from the center of california to sunny los angeles within a day and disappearing without a trace once the work is done.  
he's damn good at his job, josh thinks.  
he still hasn't been caught, and the cops are feeling the pressure as bodies begin to pile and blood begins to pool.  
  
josh sits in his run down apartment, wrapped in a threadbare blanket and shivering because they cut his heating off.  
the lights are all off and the only source of light is the small television that crackles every other 5 seconds.  
  
he isn't the safest, theoretically speaking.  
his apartment is in the alley ways of san francisco and he often awakes to screaming or the sound of drunken laughter and shattering glass.  
he thinks that maybe he should be scared, because the killer has disappeared again and his windows don't lock and his door barely closes.  
  
josh just smiles, because he has a secret put away in a drawer and he knows that he can't be killed if he's already dead.  
  
  
  
he gets up early the next morning, shaking the cold out of his fingers and putting on unintentionally ripped jeans and a black tshirt.  
he laughs at himself for dressing up for his own funeral.  
  
he decides to do his best to clean the house, making sure his worn down blanket is folded neatly over his bed and his clothes are in his closet.  
he puts all the toilet paper away and empties out the fridge.  
  
josh wants to see the sunlight for the last time, no matter how weak it may be. so he heads downstairs to grab one last meal.  
the sun barely peeks from the clouds and the streets are filled with perfect faces of makeup and freshly trimmed hair and impeccable custom tailored suits.  
josh looks at himself in the smudged glass of an empty store and reminds himself that pretty does(n't) matter.  
  
he decides the last thing he wants to eat is just a simple sandwich, and he allows himself the luxury of an iced coffee to go with it.  
  
he sits outside, even though it's beginning to rain and he imagines he can feel sunshine warming his skin.  
  
he takes a shower when he gets back and tries to rinse the dirt off his hands and the blood from under his skin.  
  
7:46 pm.  
  
he thinks that the sound of the staticky tv should be the last thing he hears.  
he sets it at a quiet volume, and his hands shake as he goes to refold the blanket again and again and finally stands up.  
  
he almost tiptoes to his empty kitchen.  
he knows all the drawers are empty except for one, and his hands are trembling so violently that he struggles simply to pull the drawer open and and grab the loaded gun.  
  
  
he's lifting the gun to his head when he hears the window in the next room open.  
  
he laughs, something bitter and desperate and slightly insane.  
of fucking course there had to be some fucking runaway or petty thief to interrupt the day he had so carefully set up to be the end.  
  
he decides to stay in his bedroom.  
maybe whatever broke in will kill him faster than himself.  
  
there are light footsteps and a red eyed man bursts through the doorway, breaths shuddering and gun pointed with knives sticking out the pockets of his jeans.  
  
josh laughs hollowly as he puts the gun under his chin.  
  
"maybe you'll be my excuse. do you want to do it or should i do the honors?"  
  
he wasn't expecting him to throw his gun on the floor and gently coax the gun from under josh's chin with tears streaming down his cheeks.  
  
now josh is crying too, and he wants to question why a killer is hugging him with hands too soft to hold knives and words too gentle to taunt last words.  
  
it's califournia anyway, and josh has learned that the strangest things happen here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also my concert was gr9 and im always crying


	8. w.d.y.w.f.m?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler works in a 24 hour convenience store. josh is a thief with dry lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 updates in a week look @ me go

2:22 am:tuesday.

tyler is bored out of his mind.   
the counter is crowded and uncomfortable, and the only thing he can sit on is a pile of half empty boxes and his only regret is that he chose the night shift.

he watches the staticky camera feed with a bored fascination and jolts himself into an upright position as the cheap repurposed christmas bells on the door ring.

a man walks in, enveloped in a gigantic sweatshirt and tight fitting jeans. his bright yellow hair sticks up all over the place and he reaches a hand to graze a packet of candy hanging on the shelves and reaches for a different brand instead.

tyler swallows down his anxiety and calls out to the customer,  
"welcome! can i help you with anything?"  
he spins around and he's so beautiful that tyler can feel his cheeks burning and his throat aching with all the things he could say to this man.  
but he shoves them down into his chest, next to his half empty heart and smiles hollowly at the pretty boy, reminding himself that he isn't a sinner hes not a sinner hes not a _dirtyfuckingsinner._

he smiles brightly back at tyler, eyes crinkling up and lips stretching wide.  
"yeah, actually! do you have any redbull and hospital masks?"

tyler can't help but laugh.  
"that's an interesting combination to ask for. do you have a deadly contagious disease but a knack for go kart racing or what not?"  
the other boy throws his head back and laughs.  
"nah, just really tired and i have non sexual kinks."  
tyler just shrugs, indicating that he won't judge and points him(josh, he finds out) down the drinks aisle and then to hygiene.

josh leans against the counter to pay for his redbull and pack of masks, and tyler notices that his lips are strangely dry, and he couldn't help but think that must be a little uncomfortable.

he digs a cherry vanilla chapstick out of the jar sitting on the counter and hands it to josh.  
"it's on me. no offense, but you look like you need it."

josh just smiles again, and the fluorescent lights glint off his nose ring as he pops it open, swiping it over his lips 3 times exactly.  
they're a tantalizing pink now.  
josh nods approvingly,  
"good flavor choice."

tyler laughs and waves at josh as he shoves the chapstick and redbull into his hoodie pocket and rips open the pack of masks.  
josh waves back as he stretches the mask over his face and saunters out the door, bells jingling.

tyler sits back on a pile of unopened boxes and wonders why he'd buy a redbull if he was going to wear a mask over his mouth.

3:33 am:sunday

tyler's eyes are tired and he can't wait until the clock hits 4:15 am so he can just go home and collapse on his bed.  
the door jingles as it opens, and tyler takes his time to look up, his eyelids fluttering as he looks up at whoever walks in with half lidded eyes.  
what he sees makes him straighten up and his eyes open wide.

a man stands in front of the counter, hood pulled over his face and white mask covering his mouth. he's wearing a large coat with a red zipper, and his eyes are a pretty brown green and his hands are holding a pair of wicked sharp knives.

"now, sweetheart. the knives are just a precaution. i'm not gonna hurt you, but im gonna ask ya to turn off the cameras and stay behind the counter, please."

tyler's hands shake terribly and tears begin to slip down his face as he shifts to his left to shut down the cameras with his eyes clouded with tears blurring his vision.  
"what do you want from me?"  
"now, now, baby boy. don't cry. im just gonna take a couple things and go, okay, lovely? stay there."

tyler stays there, hands cold and legs trembling with the frigid hands of fear wrapping around his heart and creeping into his lungs.  
the man comes back to the counter, little black backpack noticeably more full than before.

he shoves the knives into his back pockets and grabs tyler's shaking hands.  
"all done, okay? no need to panic, you can head right home after i leave. it's nearly 4:15."

"i have one little thing for you, tyler."  
the man leans over  
the counter, pulls off his mask and leans forward, kissing the corner of tyler's mouth.  
he tastes cherry vanilla chapstick.

"you looked like you needed it. its on me."  
tyler grabs josh's face and kisses him, hard on the lips.  
he pulls away, breathless.  
"guess i really do have good taste, hm?"  
he laughs.  
"i said you have good taste in flavors, honey. you clearly don't have a good taste in men."

the bells jingle as josh shuts the door firmly and tyler decides to buy himself a tube of cherry vanilla chapstick.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love to die.  
> prefer not existing to existence quite honestly.


	9. sweater weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler's homeless. josh is mysterious and has good fashion sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean i wanna die but i have a bunch of works i gotta finish before i can write out my suicide note  
> also this chapter is really shit but so am i sorry

~~~~~~~~tyler shivers.

the ocean air is cold and unforgiving, and it stings his bare arms and throws sand into his hair. 

his throat is dry and he keeps dragging himself up the beach, even though he'd much rather collapse on the sand and pretend that he's soaking up the sun with the sounds of ocean water echoing in his ears.

he stumbles along another few feet and drops to the ground, scooting on his ass backwards a few feet into a rock enclosure that blocks some of the wind.

he can't feel his hands and he brings his knees up to his chest, trying to keep in body warmth.

~~this isnt the way he wants to die~~

there's smoke floating nearly tyler, and he coughs and pushes it away with a hand, before he hears footsteps.

a boy with bare feet and an oversized hoodie wanders in next to tyler with a glowing blue e cigarette in his mouth.

he plops down in the sand, and turns off the little cigarette.

he holds something out to tyler.

its a black sweater, covered in little roses and flowers.

his voice sounds like what tyler remembers of coffee.

"i see you up and down the beach all the time. didn't think you deserved to suffer."

tyler pulls the soft material over his head and sighs gracefully, pulling the sleeves over the palms of his hands.

the other boy pulls a couple bottles of water out of his hoodie pocket and sticks them in the sand, before standing up.

tyler's voice is scratchy with unuse.

"what's your name?"

the boy smiles back at him, and tyler realizes as he gazes over flushed pink cheeks and dark eyes that crinkle at the corners paired with faded rosy lips that this generous stranger is quite beautiful.

"my name is josh, but you can call me spooky."

he lights up the cigarette again and he's gone, like a ghost dissolving in the wind.

tyler doesn't see the boy again for another week, and as days past he begins to feel unease.

his sweater still keeps him warm, as threadbare as it is becoming.

he's taking the same route he did when he first met josh (spooky?) and theres something familiar in the little rocky cave where they met.

tyler stumbles towards it, and with cold shooting through his chest, realizes that it's the sweatshirt josh was wearing. he digs through the pocket, and his fingers catch on paper.

it's a recipt, the back of the crinkled paper filled with scratchy handwriting and ink from the pens you use to sign your recipts.

_dear tyler,_

_by the time you read this, i'll be a ghost. (spooky, hmm?) the beach was never a safe place for me to be, but you gave it purpose, if just for a moment. thank you for letting me end things pleasantly._

_it's too cold for you here, tyler._

_better luck, and im sorry i couldnt get to know the angel that you surely were._

_-josh_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone still reads this, i want u to know,,  
> even though i might not know you or who you are, the fact that you were ever willing to read what i wrote or write something kind about it, is so strange and lovely to me. you guys will never understand how sweet and heartwarming it is to have a shitty day and realize that some people enjoy the effort you put into things. i see you, silent readers and ao3 guests, thank you so so so much.  
> i wanna say hello:  
> tumblr:washedouteyes  
> instagram:monostones


	10. let it go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler gets a suicide note from a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this took so long!! it took forever for me to find smth i wanted to write 4 this :((

it came, hidden like a snake in the rocks.

he was handed the pile of artwork and letters after the show, the security guard dropping it lightly into his hands with a smile. 

he sat down heavily on the floor of his dressing room, and began to sort through the pile.

thick, rough paper covered in beautiful sketches and watercolors of him and josh, pages of thin printer paper stapled together expressing thankfulness, happiness.

then, a torn piece of notebook paper, crumpled.

_dear tyler and josh,_

_this is my suicide note._

_thank you for what you've done for me. you let me feel, if only for a couple hours or so, what happiness is._

_i bought my tickets today with the very last of my money. my family is gone. my house is no longer my home._

_this is the end._

_thank you._

 

the name signed on the paper is smeared with tears and a messy hand rushing over ink.

tyler sits, shellshocked, surrounded by devotion and worship with fan dedication spread around him, but here it is, breaking him at his core.

he couldn't do enough.

how many fans have died under his painted hands, his promises of staying alive and being worth it?

how many died with the word liar on their lips.

tyler's hand closes tight around the piece of paper, crumpling it into a ball.

he feels his lungs begin to chill, and he lays down on the ground and tries not to sob and he mourns.

 

a gentle hand knocks at his door.

tyler doesn't bother getting up, so the door eventually opens to let josh in, who shuts the door behind him.

tyler can't describe the look on josh's face as he tries to comprehend the pain in tyler's face and the messily tossed pieces of paper.

tyler throws the piece of paper at him and buries his face in his hands.

josh reads it with the blood draining out of his face, until those drum steady hands are shaking like he's cold.

josh throws the paper aside and hugs tyler tightly as he begins to sob.

it's not your fault, josh whispers.

he chants it, like a mantra into tyler's ear, until he's whispering along.

it's not my fault.

tyler eventually gets up to go to the bathroom, and the sink runs as tyler washes his face.

josh pulls down his sleeves, takes a deep breath, and decides to rip up the note in his back pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this book is almost over ?? holy shit


	11. prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the birds are coming for josh, and tyler needs to teach him how to fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i guess this is the final chapter but ??
> 
> would any of you guys b interested in me adding more chapters n songs to this?? please let me know!!!

it was so quiet at first.

imperceptible, unnoticable, the rustling of feathers and the flapping of wings began to itch at the back of josh's mind.

he scratches at his scalp until it bleeds.

each call the birds make when he walks down the street sounds like an announcement to him.

he stares at them, their shiny feathers and beady little eyes.

he imagines what they must be saying as they glare down at him from their high up perches.

_prey! prey! prey! prey!_

he dreams about black eyed ravens and crows diving at him from the blue sky above, and tearing through his skin and ripping out his tongue and blinding him.

he dreams that he lays dead on the floor as a hawk cackles a cry of " _prey!"_ and vultures begin to circle overhead.

they peck at his blind eyes, and drive their sharp beaks into his soft flesh.

the vultures always come, with little eyes full of happy hatred and josh thinks that he'd be better off dead.

but the hyenas never come.

his carcass will lie, drying in the sun as flies make homes in the hollows of his nose, but never will the hyenas approach.

that's because they're all at tyler's backdoor.

they scratch, they growl, and they rasp animalistic cries of " _prey, prey, prey."_

tyler will close the windows, and he puts out scarecrows to spook the birds away, but none of them come anyway. they're all perched on the telephone wire hanging low over josh's house.

sometimes, the two sit in their comfortable position at the bottom of the food chain, and they burn their lungs away and blink away the smoke stuck in their eyelashes.

sometimes they lie on tyler's bed, and the scratching is loud and the growling hurts both their heads.

this is when josh is a wolf, and he throws aside the hyenas like a knife through flesh and he is howling with a melancholy tone of " _predator, predator, predator."_

sometimes they lie on the floor of josh's room and they hear the piercing screeches of birds as they circle around the chimney.

tyler is a quick fox, and he makes quick work of the feathers and the sound of his teeth tearing through skin and surprised and pained screeches all sound like chants of " _predator, predator, predator."_

they rise to the food chain, and they cast their demons to their feet.

they throw their leftovers aside for the hyenas and vultures to have, and they dig through the shiny white bones with desperate, starving cries of  _prey, prey, prey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i adore every single one of you.
> 
> make sure to let me know if you want me to add more chapters to this book.


	12. float

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's your obsession with swimming pools anyway ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh fuck sorry for the wait,,,,,,, but,,,,,,, im gonna start updating more frequently now i promise

nobody would ever call josh a swimmer.

even though his bleached hair was always turning green from chlorine and it was rare that he wasn't in the pool, joshua dun was not a swimmer.

he didn't swim laps each day, or squeeze a swimming cap onto his head, or dive into the water with the grace of a hawk swooping in on its prey.

he just floated in the water.

josh would actually say that he just sank in the water.

he remembers when he was in elementary school. his parents made him take swimming classes over the summer.

the teacher said, "just remember, your body naturally floats! so even if you aren't swimming, you'll move towards the surface."

josh calls bullshit.

josh is seventeen, josh is always cold, and josh finds peace at the bottom of a swimming pool.

he just blows out all his air, all his useless light dreams and hopes in bubbles, leaving them behind.

and he closes his eyes and he lies on the bottom of his swimming pool, in all his clothes.

josh is fine.

josh has discovered that when you're underwater, it's much more painful to keep air inside of your lungs than to exhale it out.

 

tyler was drowning.

not literally, he probably couldn't drown. being a swimmer and all.

he was drowning in the sticky essence of life, piles of work and social expectations, questioning glances and cobwebs holding his ribs together.

drowning in demons, drowning in darkness every night, where unclosed eyelids held him beneath the water.

tyler won't drown himself. tyler wouldn't ever drown himself. it would be defeat.

not for blurryface, never for blurryface.

tyler would never find himself at the bottom of a swimming pool.

 

tyler wants to be by the pool. it's small, indoors, and it's dark.

tyler likes it.

he sits by the side of the pool, with his feet in, and he thinks.

his eyes glaze over, and his body freezes dead.

tyler doesn't mind it.

the grey only fades out of his eyes when he notices the body at the bottom of the pool.

the grey hasn't faded from his veins yet, and he just stares at the boy with a sort of unbreathing detachment.

the possible dead body is very, very pretty.

the dead body is not dead.

his eyes are open, and he's staring tyler down through 6 feet of water, and he raises a hand.

tyler places his palm on the surface of the water.

the stranger shifts. no bubbles rise from his mouth. he pushes himself up to the surface of the pool and easily hoists himself over the side.

this is when tyler realizes the pretty stranger is still in all his clothes, and is dripping wet. his converse are soaked.

the stranger is shivering. he coughs.

tyler stares.

"do you need help?'

he nods.

tyler drives the stranger to his empty house and he turns on the shower, warm.

he places a sweatshirt and jeans outside the bathroom door.

his name is josh, and he doesn't know that after he puts on the oversized sweatshirt and sits on tyler's couch and talks and talks and talks, that tyler will kiss him and that he'll kiss tyler until both of them are floating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you


	13. baby came home 2 / valentines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler fucks him, and he leaves and he leaves and he leaves.  
> does he feel bad about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to be loved. please please please ill be good

it begins with a bandaid on tyler's right thumb.

that's the first thing josh notices, tyler picking at the strings coming off of the bandaid with disdain. tyler cracks his knuckles.

josh sits next to him and sniffs. he's not wearing enough.

"what happened to your thumb?"

tyler shrugs.

"nothing."

josh tilts his head, an action that would be the weak spot for tyler in the months to come.

"then why the bandage?"

tyler shrugs weakly and begins to peel the barely clinging bandaid off his finger.

"easier to light matches with. more friction."

he tosses the trash on the ground and josh can see that his thumb is completely fine.

tyler slips another one out of his pocket and tears it open.

josh tugs at his hair and bites his lip. the grass is making his jeans damp.

tyler stands up abruptly.

"lets get tea."

josh frowns, grabs his skateboard. the grip tape rubs at his already calloused palm.

"i like coffee better."

 

tyler eventually changes josh's mind.

it took a few weeks of tyler constantly stealing his coffee, but he's come to accept his fa(i)t(h)e.

he wants to love tyler.

he wants to hold his hand, rub the bandaid on his right thumb, run his fingers across the circle burns on each of his knuckles.

he wants to hold tyler in his lap and run his hands through his hair and curl it around his fingers.

he wants warm hugs and cheeks pressing together and lips on his neck, he wants gentle hands under the sheets and soft reassurances.

he wants to love and love and love and be loved.

god, he wants to be loved. he wants to be beautiful.

 

"tyler."

"hmm?"

"tyler. i want you to fuck me."

"okay."

and he does, he fucks josh over the bathroom counter and leaves bruises on his hips and love bites, lust bites on his neck.

he makes josh feel like a man.

josh cries, he cries.

"tyler, tyler. call me beautiful. tyler. please."

tyler smears lipstick around his mouth, around and around, destroying the point, and calls him beautiful.

josh cries into his pillow that night and digs painted nails into his arms.

tyler leaves.

 

tyler is greedy hands, eyes like american money eyeing josh's bare neck.

he's soft, so soft, mouthing at his collarbones and ghosting his lips over his jawline, and strokes his hands down the sides. the bandaid rubs roughly over his hipbone. his smile is sweet, so sweet, and it makes josh sticky. josh can't move, can't leave.

josh trembles, and josh cries, and he shuts his eyes and pulls his hair as hard as he can.

tyler leaves and leaves.

 

a quick hand in a fast food bathroom, body pressed against the wall. it's disgusting, dirty and josh thinks it's like him. this stupid fucking tile wall is what he is.

tyler's teeth are sharp and his nose grazes josh's. tyler kisses him.

josh fucking sobs, head buried in his hands and tyler touches him with sinful hands, and that fucking bandaid is what sends him over the edge.

tyler leaves, and he leaves, and he leaves.

 

tyler is a wolf with sharp teeth, and he aches for lamb. he wants soft skin and lovely sad eyes and curled hair.

what he wants and what he gets are very different.

what he gets is josh screaming hysterically, shying away from him and his sticky sweet gaze, curling up on himself.

"josh. please, josh." tyler can feel his tell tale heart beating hard in his ribcage.

"no, no no. you're going to leave." josh curls up and he gasps, he cries. "you're going to fucking leave me."

josh is bleeding, josh has bandaids all over his stomach.

"love me, please, love me."

josh is drowning in everything he's giving, everything he wants to give, boiling hot water spilling everywhere.

tyler feels his heart drop to his toes and all he can do is hold the boy he didn't mean to hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you like it? i hope you didn't. its terrible


	14. wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "tyler," he whispers. his body creaks.  
> "set me free. let me go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i write most of my stories about josh because partly i feel he doesn't get enough recognition and is definitely written about less. i also identify with josh more. although i love tyler, he seems like a god to me. i cant touch him

tyler winces as a wire tears in his hand. the slit is now a tiny bit longer that it was before. he sighs.

he puts the tight shirt he was trying to pull over his head down and picks up josh's nasa shirt off the floor. it hangs off his thin frame.

he puts on christmas colored wool socks and shuffles out into the kitchen to microwave eggos.

leaning past the wall blocking his vision, he spots josh. he's lounging on the balcony, bare feet, wires and all sitting on the edge. smoking a cigarette like the cliche he is.

tyler doesn't mind. it makes their kisses that much better.

 

josh doesn't speak when tyler comes up behind him and plucks the cigarette out of his hand and stubs it on the railing before throwing it over. he kicks the three butts on the floor off too.

they sit at the kitchen counter and eat their soggy eggos. tyler has too much syrup on his and its making his hands sticky.

it's fine.

josh's eyes are focused on the clock in the microwave. he counts down under his breath.

it goes out. so does the light in the kitchen.

he finishes the last bit of his eggo as his vision begins to darken and moves tyler's plate out of his way.

tyler's head hits the counter first. josh follows after.

 

it was a common choice of conversation between the two, why out of all the times that could have been chosen for them to "sleep", the late morning was the final decision.

it lead to empty nights, where tyler would shake under his thin blanket and pick at the wire in his left index finger.

it lead to josh chainsmoking on the balcony, and leaving at 3 am to get more, walking the streets with bare feet and brass knuckles.

they only rested once a month. because of course, They can't afford to make it anymore common.

josh is impatient.

he has one wire removed each month. he has dozens scattered over his body. it is not enough. he doesn't want monthly visits when he turns 40.

but he has to. They say it's not safe to remove more than one every 30 days.

he's heard of self practitioners, doctors in a sense. for a heavy fee, you lie under sedation while they remove every wire in one day.

josh doesn't dare. that's how his dad went out. he can't leave tyler by himself.

josh is fucking sick of it.

he wants to be free.

 

when he wakes up, it is 4 hours after they shut down. he and tyler leave their cold waffles on the table. tyler's hand is still sticky as they make their way into the bedroom.

they take off each other's shirts, and begin to examine each other.

josh finds tyler's in a matter of seconds.

"there." he taps gently on tyler's upper forearm. there's a small hole.

it takes a few minutes of tyler scrutinizing josh's body to find it.

tyler smiles and pokes the spot a few inches above his tailbone.

"guess we don't have to worry about that getting in the way of us fucking anymore."

josh kisses him. the cigarette smoke is faint.

 

that night, tyler falls asleep at 8. he shivers and josh layers all his clothing on top of him as a blanket.

josh takes off his shirt. he hopes its collected body warmth can soothe tyler. he pushes it against tyler's chest and wraps his hands around it. tyler settles.

on the balcony, half naked and feet bare like always, he smokes his last cigarette.

it's only 6 minutes and 43 seconds after he tosses the stub off the balcony that he begins to become restless.

he dares not go out to get more, not with tyler sleeping for the first time in months.

instead, he swings his feet and listens to the wire on his ankle clang against the railing.

he chews on his fingernails and thinks about pulling wires.

he's always hated the one in his side. it constantly chafes against him like the tag on a sweater.

he toys with the end and pantomimes pulling it out.

it tickles as he spins it between his fingers.

looking over his shoulder at the pile of clothes on the bed, he hops off the railing and leans his back against it.

before he can think about it properly, he grabs the end and pulls as hard as he fucking can.

he expects pain to wrack his body.

he feels nothing but a small internal tug.

josh stares at the wire sitting in the palm of his hand, and begins to entertain the thought that he may not be quite human.

 

when tyler wakes up, he heads to the kitchen and begins to put eggos in the microwave.

there's no smoke rising from the balcony.

tyler leaves the microwave door open and walks out into the apartment in search of josh.

 

of course he's in the bathroom.

josh is collapsed in the empty bathtub.

there is a pile of discarded wires scattered across the bathroom floor.

it looks like there's black plastic poking out of josh's cheek, and josh rips another wire from his finger.

he turns to tyler. one of his eyes is black.

tyler throws up in the sink.

"tyler," he whispers. his body creaks. tyler shakes, and approaches him slowly. he steps on a wire and cradles josh's face in his hands.

"set me free. let me go."

black oil leaks down the drain.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone's still reading this, im glad.


	15. a little death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> death valley is the place to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so tiregd

tyler likes the crawls they do through death valley.

he likes watching josh stumble around bushes and prick his hands on joshua trees. josh laughs, his tongue sticking out every time.

his pale skin turns him into a moon roving on the sands, and tyler cannot stop looking at the way the sun glitters, sharp, blinding tyler, off josh's eyes.

josh acts like he thinks tyler isn't looking, his greek-sculpture face turned toward him. the sun throws his face into sharp relief, and he gazes at tyler adoringly, hungrily. there's a smear of blood on his chin.

tyler and josh sleep on the racetrack, a stretch of empty, flat, and dry ground. the stars are scattered across the sky like the freckles across josh's back, and tyler rakes his fingernails down and creates constellations.

they catch a lonely stranger exploring badwater basin at 4:30 am.

tyler watches the stranger's eyes follow the lines of josh's bare shoulders, and settle on tyler's bitten lips. he gives them a friendly smile. tyler sees through it like a two way mirror.

he's entranced by josh's pretty face, how the moon makes him glow and look like a god. and tyler smiles, crooked, as josh catches the boy up in his arms, and presses a kiss to his waiting temple. his everything lays so close underneath the surface, throbbing at the neck.

the man falls asleep into the crook of josh's neck, and he picks him up, and they bring him up the mountainside.

tyler sits and watches, as the sun comes shimmering up behind them, and the stranger's eyes are closed, but not asleep.

josh's arms wrap around the stranger's waist and as the sun rises, as josh slides his lips, slow and soundless, across the stranger's neck.

the stranger makes a lovely red lipstick for josh, and the sun illuminates them both, like michaelangelo with his steady hands lovingly painting josh catching the stranger's slumped form, like an oil painting of juliet dying in romeo's arms.

josh lays the body down gently, holding a hand over the slit in the throat. it gasps for breath and shudders, limbs shaking. josh presses a kiss to its fluttering eyelid and it calms. he turns and looks at tyler, and he is god's most beautiful angel, sent to purgatory to torture tyler, and tyler only.

blood covers his mouth, a mask of the most open kind, designed not to hide, but to reveal. it creeps with seductive, warm advances down his neck and tyler moves forward. he isn't smirking anymore. his tongue licks a long line up josh's neck, catching the blood, like it was ice cream dripping down the cone.

tyler leans down, and kisses the body on its lips. it twitches weakly, and tyler makes another adoring slit on the other side of its neck.

tyler pulls an empty bottle out of his bag. it's a reused bottle from a pomegranate juice drink, and josh throws his head back and laughs.

tyler fills up his water bottle as casually as you would use a water fountain on a high school campus.

fingers catch his chin reverently, and he's drawn into a bruising kiss. tyler's eyelids close.

the next night, they arrive at the motel 6.

tyler sees her visibly swallow at their approach, daunted by the appearance of the angels of 3 am.

josh asks for a room in his velvet voice, and tyler sips his pomegranate juice and smiles.

they fuck in that hotel room, tyler's bones creaking like a trampoline in the summertime.

josh noses at his neck, rubs his fresh shaved head.

"baby," he whispers, drawls out, hoarse. it makes tyler gasp into josh's mouth.

"angel." tyler responds, soft, a caress.

"une petite mort."

and tyler's eyes roll back in his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love u... please kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, love you.


End file.
